


Ten Years On

by HisBadWolf



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Tormienne, briemund
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-09 07:24:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 13,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18912271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HisBadWolf/pseuds/HisBadWolf
Summary: Brienne is bored. Tormund can't forget his Big Woman. Bran the Broken is feeling mischievous.(I own nothing. Just needed a better ending for two of my favorites!)





	1. Chapter One

Ten years had passed since King Bran the Broken began his rule of the Six Kingdoms from King’s Landing. Ten years since the horror of The Long Night, and the Dragon Queen’s destruction of King’s Landing. Ten years since Sansa Stark was crowned Queen in the North, and Arya left for western lands unknown, and Jon Snow returned to the Wall and took the black again.

For ten years, Ser Brienne of Tarth had served King Bran loyally as the Lord Commander of his Kingsguard. At first, she had been honored to sit on the Small Council, to serve the king and help rebuild the kingdom. She still was proud, ten years on, to be the first woman in this role; but truth be told, something had begun bothering her in recent years.

Brienne was bored. 

There simply wasn’t much in the way of conflict under Bran the Broken. Doubtless this was a good thing – the people of Westeros deserved a season of peace after the chaos of the wars – but as a soldier, Brienne preferred action. These decidedly quiet times were trying her patience, but she had no idea how to resolve the conflict within her. She had always done her duty, and would continue to do so as long as Bran required it of her; she never broke her oaths, but sometimes her mind wandered and she found herself longing for adventure.

What exactly did she want? To go chasing after Arya, seeking her fortune in unknown lands? To venture north and give her allegiance to Sansa instead? She doubted either of these options would please her any more than her current situation. 

So she filled her days with drilling the Kingsguard, meeting with the other members of the Small Council, and any other menial task that could keep her busy, even if she was restless and unsatisfied. 

She had loved Jamie Lannister, for all the good it had done her – she still thanked the old gods and the new that she hadn’t fallen pregnant during their brief interlude. But he was ten years dead and buried, and before he died he had left her bed for his sister; he did not deserve any more of Brienne’s tears, and she had, after some time passed, been able to gradually let go of that hurt and appreciate the beauty of the few moments of happiness they’d had together.

But at night, her dreams didn’t feature the golden one-handed lion; in her dreams, the nights were cold and snowy, and the lover that warmed her bed was the flame-haired Wildling. She hated that he haunted her dreams. That obscene grin he used to give her whenever he caught her eye in Castle Black or Winterfell should have offended her – and it usually did, but in the sterility of her current life, she sometimes wondered what opportunities she had missed out on by not taking him up on his advances. 

These thoughts were silly, and useless, and she tried not to give them much of her mental energy. What was the point? Tormund Giantsbane had gone North to his homeland after The Long Night, and he probably didn’t even remember her. It’s not like they would ever see each other again.

* * * * *

Ten years had passed since the night the dead came to Winterfell. Tormund still found it hard to believe they had defeated the Night King, that he no longer had to worry about his people’s villages being overrun by armies of undead in the night. The North was still cold, and he liked it that way – but his people were free to hunt and fish, and even farm and build more solid communities than they’d been able to for generations.

He had been glad for the return of Jon Snow. He had known his friend was not meant for the politics and subterfuge that thrived in the Southron climate. Tormund had rejoiced to see him enter the gates of Castle Black, but he had to admit his heart had fallen when he realized Jon was alone. He hadn’t realized until that moment that he’d secretly hoped the Big Woman would change her mind about him and decide, for some unknown reason, to come north in search of him. 

But ten years had passed, and although the years had been kind to Tormund and the Free Folk, he continued to be restless. This surprised no one, as he was a true Wildling at heart, but they didn’t comprehend the reason for his ongoing agitation. He’d hardly been visibly pining for Brienne – that just wasn’t in his nature – but though he’d on occasion taken women to bed, he’d never taken one to wife, and he knew he probably never would. Who could compete with the memory of the woman he’d wanted to have great, big monster babies with?

He hadn’t begrudged her the dalliance with the pretty Lannister; it was evident even to an outsider like him that they had a history together, though he didn’t understand why the smaller man hadn’t courted her in the Southron custom before The Long Night. He would have jumped on that opportunity, had she given him so much as a second glance. But long nights with Jon around the fires north of the wall had led to some interesting discussions, and he now knew about Jaime and his bizarre relationship with his sister, Cersei the queen. He was aware that Jaime had left Brienne’s bed to chase after his doomed twin, eventually dying in her arms beneath the keep in King’s Landing. He could only hope his blonde beauty hadn’t suffered too greatly from that loss, but he was sure her stoicism and strength had served her well and helped her recover.

He still wished for her, late at night when he burrowed in his bed of furs, and he knew in his heart that he would never meet her equal. But bygones were just that, and there was no point wishing for something that could never be.

* * * * *

Bran the Broken was a very successful king. Being the Three-Eyed Raven, keeper of the knowledge of his and all people, certainly didn’t hurt. He knew his manner was off-putting to many, if not most, of his subjects and counselors, but this didn’t bother him; he was able to ensure loyalty and deter the kinds of intrigue that had previously plagued the rulers of King’s Landing by maintaining his air of detachment and mystery. Furthermore, he had found that a level, unblinking gaze at just the right moment worked to maintain his reputation as a chilly, if effective, monarch.

Because of his aloofness, those around him assumed he was not much interested in their personal lives or happiness. This was not entirely true. In recent years, he had particularly noticed that the Lord Commander of his Kingsguard was growing restless; no doubt her years of service during the wars had given her a taste for adventure that made a peaceful kingdom less than appealing. Everyone had relished the peace and quiet initially, but a quiet court could be somehow more challenging for a warrior such as Ser Brienne.

While he had met Brienne at Winterfell, their interactions had been somewhat limited before he became king and asked her to serve as Kingsguard. He knew she was a fierce, loyal fighter who had served Renly Baratheon before swearing to his mother to secure the safety of her daughters. She had fought bravely during The Long Night, and he’d heard rumors of her dalliance with Jaime Lannister before the Kingslayer left to return to his sister’s side. He wondered what else she had encountered in the great white north.

Bran practiced the skills that made him the Three-Eyed Raven quite frequently, and one evening as he set out to greensight, his Lord Commander crossed his mind and his idle curiosity got the better of him. Stepping back in time, he found himself watching as Brienne and Sansa arrived at Castle Black; as he took in the scene, he couldn’t help but notice the red-haired Wildling man who couldn’t take his eyes off Ser Brienne. Coming back to himself, he chuckled as he recalled seeing the man trailing in Brienne’s footsteps at various times around Winterfell. She seemed nothing but annoyed by him at the time, but that level of attention could be intriguing, even if the interest wasn’t reciprocated.

Maybe what his Lord Commander needed was a visit with an old admirer? She certainly hadn’t any of those in King’s Landing. At any rate, a trip to the north would provide a nice change of pace. 

By the next morning, Bran the Broken had decided on a plan. As his Small Council met to discuss the goings-on of the Six Kingdoms, he surprised them by announcing, “I have decided it is time for me to pay a visit to the Cave of the Three-Eyed Raven. I haven’t been there since the Night King fell, and I am curious if anything changed. I believe the nation is stable enough for me to go now, and I will leave Lord Tyrion to handle the business of the kingdom in my absence.”

Turning his gaze to Brienne, he added, “Lord Commander, you and Ser Podrick will accompany me. We can send ravens to my sister in Winterfell and my brother at Castle Black to let them know we will be stopping there along the way.”

For a change, everyone on the Council was silent, clearly stunned by his sudden proclamation. Evidently no one could think of a valid objection, so after a moment he said, “Preparations should begin immediately. We will leave early next week.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember the courtyard of Castle Black, when Tormund first saw her? Let's give that another shot :)

Brienne had been as surprised as anyone when King Bran announced his intention to travel north, but was secretly pleased to be accompanying him on his journey. She tried not to dwell on her thoughts of Tormund – the North was vast, and it was too much to hope that she might encounter him. Besides, what would she even say or do if their paths should cross? 

So she focused instead on the excitement of the journey. She had enjoyed walking the halls of Winterfell once more, and visiting with Queen Sansa. They stayed for nearly a week at the castle, though Bran spent most of his time in the godswood while Brienne, Podrick, and the rest of their party took advantage of the Northern hospitality. Brienne made sure he had an escort nearby, but respected his privacy as he visited his childhood home.

It felt strange to be walking these halls again. So many memories, both before and after the battle with the dead, seemed to haunt the hallways. She and Pod found themselves quietly reminiscing about fellows they had lost, and when they feasted in the Great Hall, she couldn’t help but look out the corner of her eyes for the red hair that had seemed to be nearly always in her wake a decade before. It was absurd, she knew, but he was one of the ghosts of her previous days here.

The week passed quickly, and soon it was time to go. Bran had a quiet word with his sister before he left, and Brienne stood at a respectful distance to allow them a private goodbye. She noticed a curious glance from Sansa, and an odd smile – she wondered what the King had said to amuse his sister. He had never treated Brienne with anything less than the utmost respect, surely he wasn’t poking fun at her now? No, Sansa would not be laughing at her. It must just be a private joke between the siblings.

As Bran’s party rode out of Winterfell heading towards Castle Black, Sansa smiled and waved them farewell. As they passed out of sight, she turned to her lady-in-waiting with a laugh. She could hardly believe her strange little brother, the King of the Six Kingdoms, was playing matchmaker. She wondered if Jon had been able to find the red-haired Wildling, and what Brienne’s reaction would be when she saw him.

* * * * *

Tormund had been surprised and pleased to see his old friend Jon riding into the Wildling settlement a fortnight ago. He didn’t get to see the crow more than once or twice a year, when Jon would stop by on his rounds of the northern territory. The job of the Night’s Watch was easier now than it had been when the dead roamed free, and they did their best to maintain a presence throughout the North and make themselves a resource for the Free Folk. 

After dinner that night, Jon asked Tormund to go for a walk with him. As they strode around the outskirts of the town, Jon disclosed the reason for his visit – he’d had a raven from his brother Bran, the one they called the Broken King, and it seemed the Three-Eyed Raven was planning to come north to visit the cave and the weirwood tree where he had come to fully comprehend his strange powers. He’d asked his brother to secure a Wildling guide for the royal party, and Jon could think of no one better than Tormund for such a job.

Surprised, Tormund agreed to return to Castle Black with Jon. He hadn’t been there in nearly ten years, since Jon returned from the South and led Tormund and his people back into the forest, and he thought it would be good to see the old keep once more – not least because of the memories of his Southron beauty, whom he had first seen behind those walls. They set out the next morning.

Once he arrived at Castle Black, there wasn’t much for Tormund to do but wait for the arrival of the King and his companions. He passed the time by sparring with the crows – some of the younger ones had never fought one of the Free Folk, and he heartily enjoyed knocking them about, though he always helped them up with a laugh afterwards so there were no hard feelings. 

He’d just finished one such sparring session when the gates of Castle Black opened and the guards announced the arrival of King Bran the Broken. Tormund turned to see the royal party entering, led by two members of the Kingsguard in golden armor. His mouth fell open in disbelief as the taller of the guards removed a shining helmet to reveal the proud visage of Brienne of Tarth, the Big Woman of his dreams. He watched in stunned silence as she greeted Jon Snow, and then she turned in his direction and he saw an equal amount of shock in her eyes when she noticed him staring at her open-mouthed. 

Time seemed to stand still for a moment, until Jon Snow spoke and Brienne was forced to turn her attention back to him. She didn’t look at Tormund again as she led her horse towards the stables, but his mind was racing as he came to terms with the fact that he would be traveling with King Bran to the cave – and also with her. 

She would have to speak to him eventually. Ten years had passed, and he wasn’t going to let another opportunity slip away. But what on earth would he say to her?

One of the younger crows sneered, “That must be the one they call Brienne the Beauty. I can see why!” and a snicker spread through the crowd. Tormund reacted without thinking, grabbing the boy by his collar and hauling him up into the air. 

“If I ever hear you any of you speak of her with such disrespect, you’ll have me to deal with. And I won’t be playing around like we have been, crows!” He tossed the boy to the ground, and stomped off towards the Castle proper. 

* * * * *

Brienne was stunned and flustered. Their journey north had been so uneventful thus far, she hadn’t even let herself dream she’d see Tormund once they entered the courtyard of Castle Black. And there he was, clear as day, just as he had been so many years ago when she’d ridden in with Lady Sansa to reunite her with her brother – and with that same look on his face, no less! 

She needed to focus. She had a job to do, and they were just stopping here for a short visit before heading out to the Cave of the Three-Eyed Raven. She was here to protect King Bran, not to indulge in some silly fantasy about a man she’d barely even spoken to when last they’d met. 

Podrick was giving her a knowing look, and she found herself wishing he was still her squire so she could knock him over for the smirk on his face. She might just do it anyway. But then he said, “Ser Brienne, if you are worried about the Wildling fellow, I can tell him to keep his distance.”

She sighed. “That won’t be necessary, Ser Podrick. It’s been years, he probably has a wife and family to return to. I doubt we’ll even see him again while we’re here.”

They busied themselves getting settled into their rooms, and she noticed King Bran having a quiet word with Jon that afternoon. Like Sansa, Jon seemed to glance in her direction as Bran spoke, but he didn’t laugh – just shook his head with a small smile. She hoped the north had been kind to its former king. He looked well enough.

All the residents of Castle Black met in the common room for the evening meal. Brienne found herself anxious upon entering, remembering the first meal she’d eaten in this room, when Tormund tried to seduce her by eating a sandwich with the strangest eye contact she’d ever encountered. Granted, she’d not had much experience with flirting, but his manners seemed odd even for a Wildling. She smiled at the memory though, remembering how persistent his attentions had been. 

She glanced around the room upon entering it, but saw no sign of his red hair and beard. Maybe he’d already left Castle Black to return to his home. She was surprised how much that thought upset her – she’d no idea what they would have said to each other, but she would have liked to find out. Resignedly, she turned to the table where King Bran and Jon Snow sat, and joined them there for dinner.

As they ate, she asked Bran when he wished to head out for the cave. It was only a few days’ journey north of the wall, and they had made good time on their travels thus far. He surprised her by telling her he wanted to leave many of their companions here at Castle Black, and the only ones journeying on to the cave with him would be her, Jon Snow, and their Wildling guide. “And here he is now,” intoned Jon as Tormund joined them at the table. 

Brienne felt her eyes go wide again, and she was sure a blush was creeping up her neck. Tormund gave her a familiar grin, and said, “Ser Brienne of Tarth! I’d not though to lay eyes on you again in this lifetime. And now we’ll be traveling together beyond the Wall!”

She found she had no words to reply, so she nodded mutely and gave her full attention to the meal before her.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut ensues!

Tormund seemed to sense Brienne’s discomfort, and he didn’t address her directly again as they sat in the common room; rather, he turned his attentions to Bran and Jon, and began discussing details of the trip they were planning. But every time she looked up from her plate, he seemed to be watching her out of the corner of his eye, and when she announced she was retiring for the night, he sent her off with a wink and one of the lascivious grins she recalled from their previous encounters.

She fled from the common room, and made her way to her quarters, wondering what was wrong with her. Brienne was a Knight of the Six Kingdoms, strong and stoic, and she was baffled at her reaction to this man. Ten years ago, he had been nothing but a bother to her, though she had admired his strength and stamina in battle; but in truth, no one – not even Jaime Lannister – had ever looked at her the way he did, with what she could only describe as naked lust. He clearly remembered her, and despite her fears, she wondered what would become of them on this journey to the cave with only a few companions. 

She thought of her dreams, where her unconscious mind was free to envision things she never would have dared to ponder in her waking moments. She wondered if Tormund’s touch would be as electric in reality as it was when she slept. What would it feel like to have his hands on her, touching her in the places she only touched herself? She buried her face in her pillow and growled in frustration, knowing she would have to give in to these fantasies if she had any hope of finding sleep tonight. But how could she bear to imagine the things they might do together, knowing she’d have to face him the next day?

Suddenly, there was a knock on her door. Startled, she leapt to her feet and grabbed Oathkeeper, wondering if Bran had some emergency that required her attention – but when she opened the door, it wasn’t Podrick or any of the Night’s Watch, or even a serving girl. It was Tormund.

She gulped. She was very aware that she was standing in the door wearing nothing but her night shift and holding her sword, and she found herself blushing again as she met his gaze and saw the combination of awe and naked hunger that must surely be reflected in her own eyes. 

“Can I come in?” he asked gently. She nodded, and he entered the room and closed the door behind him.

“I thought we should clear the air before we get on the road with Jon and the Broken King,” Tormund explained, seeing the glint of panic in Brienne’s eyes as he stood in front of her. She just stood there, holding the long sword, looking very much like a frightened doe cornered in the forest. 

“I have to be honest, as I might not have another chance – you are truly the woman of my dreams, and I’ve never forgotten you. Since the day we met, I’ve dreamed of having you in my bed, but it’s more than that. You can send me away, and I promise you will never see me again – but I wanted you to know I’ve thought of you every day for the past ten years, and wondered what it would be like to have you in my arms.”

He stepped forward and took her face in his hands, and before she realized what was happening his lips met hers in a tender kiss. He didn’t push for more, and when he stepped back, he said, “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. If you’d rather not go on this journey with me, I can send to the Free Folk village and have another of my people come to serve as your guide.” With that, he turned to leave.

Oathkeeper clattered to the floor as Brienne launched herself at him, grabbing hold of Tormund before he could reach the door. He turned, and she grasped his beard and pulled him in for another kiss, this one anything but chaste. He grunted in surprise, but recovered quickly and wrapped his arms around her waist as she buried her hands in his hair and poured all the longing she’d been struggling with into this kiss. Their lips parted, and tongues intertwined as she realized she couldn’t tell which one of them deepened the kiss. 

Not that it mattered. All that mattered was this moment, being lost in his embrace, feeling this passion that she had so rarely indulged. She could lose herself in this man, and she wanted to – and if the hardness he pressed up against her was any indication, he very much wanted to as well.

Tormund broke the kiss first, needing to catch his breath, but he didn’t release his hold on Brienne – he’d waited too long for this, he wasn’t going to let her get away now. But he realized she still hadn’t spoken a word to him.

“If I’d known it was that easy, I’d have kissed you years ago,” Tormund murmured gruffly, bringing one hand up to stroke her face. Brienne was breathing hard, pressing herself against him as she gazed into his eyes. “But you have to tell me what you want, sweet Brienne. I’m yours for the taking, but I need to hear you say it.”

“Say what?” she whispered breathlessly.

“Anything!” he laughed. “You do realize that’s the first thing you’ve said to me in more than ten years, woman? I’m the one doing all the talking here, not that I’m complaining about the kissing!”

Brienne blushed and ducked her head against his shoulder, feeling suddenly shy. 

Tormund lifted her chin to meet his eyes again. “I meant what I said. I’ll do anything, be anything you want me to be. I just need to know what’s going on behind those lovely blue eyes.”

“Tonight, can it just be this?” Brienne was whispering again. “I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. But today, as soon as I saw you, I realized how much I wanted to be with you like this. I haven’t wanted anything this much in a very long time, and I don’t want to waste another moment.”

Tormund wanted more. He wanted to her to declare she’d come all this way for him, and that she’d never leave him – but he knew that was ridiculous. Brienne was a woman of honor, a dutiful knight, and he couldn’t expect her to stay forever. But for now, this was enough. With a playful growl, he kissed her passionately again. “Whatever you want, lovely Brienne – tonight I’m all yours, and you’re mine.”

Tormund picked her up without breaking the kiss and carried her to the bed. Brienne’s head was spinning with the hunger of his kiss and the fire of his words. When he set her down and turned take off his boots and furs, she surprised herself by pulling her night shift over her head in one quick movement and tossing it to the ground. He paused to stare at her in disbelief – was this really the Maid of Tarth, the woman who’d barely given him notice except to sneer at him a decade earlier? Tormund quickly undressed, discarding his garments on the floor in a heap in his hurry to climb into the bed with her.

The touch of his bare chest to hers as they shared their first naked embrace was almost too much. Brienne moaned and pulled him close for another fiery kiss, loving the way his calloused hands felt as they moved from her waist to her behind. He released her lips and began kissing his way down her neck, bringing one hand up to massage her small, perfect breast. She arched against him, wanting more of whatever he was doing to her. 

Gently Tormund encouraged her to lay back, and he gave her an obscene grin as he leaned over to take her delicate nipple in his mouth. He loved the way she cursed softly as he rolled the nipple of her other breast between his finger and thumb. He kept making his way down her body, and she spread her legs wantonly for him as she realized his intended destination. 

Brienne’s sexual history was limited to her brief encounter with Jaime, which she had enjoyed – but nothing prepared her for the way Tormund feasted on her like she was the most sumptuous meal he’d ever tasted. When he buried his face between her legs, she thought she might pass out from the sheer joy of this act, of being worshipped by this Wildling man. She tangled her fingers in his hair and cried out as he licked and sucked at her core, and he groaned as he pushed a finger into her wet heat and found her more than ready for him. He was aching to push his cock into her dripping pussy, but he wanted tonight to be about her pleasure. If he only got one night with her, he wanted to be certain she’d never forget it, that she’d never forget him.

Adding another finger, he thrust in and out of her as he focused on her clitoris, applying just the right amount of pressure with his tongue. She writhed beneath him, pulling his face closer as she approached her climax, and he smiled in satisfaction when she cried out his name as she came undone. He didn’t stop, wanting to give her more, wanting to feel her cum for him again and again. After her third orgasm, she begged him to stop, saying she needed more – and he couldn’t resist her pleas, and rose up to kiss her before plunging his cock into her at last.

Brienne was completely undone. She had never known pleasure like this, and when he kissed her and she tasted herself on his lips, she whimpered in delight. He was so big and so hard, she never wanted this to end. She cried out when he pulled his cock out of her, but he flipped her over and took her from behind, reaching around to fondle her clit again – and she came hard around him, burying her face in the pillow to keep from screaming his name. He came just after that, spilling his seed on her lower back as he groaned in ecstasy. 

“That was incredible,” Brienne whispered, turning to kiss him again. 

“I’m just getting started,” Tormund replied confidently. The night was not over yet.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moar smut, plus Bran's machinations.

Brienne awoke first the next morning, blushing when she realized she was still naked and tangled in the Wildling’s arms. Not that she had any complaints, the previous night had been everything she’d dreamed of and more. She snuggled into his embrace with a contented sigh, happy they didn’t have to rise too early as their journey to the cave wasn’t slated to being until the next morning.

When he woke, Tormund kissed the top of Brienne’s head as he felt himself hardening against her nakedness. She gave him a wide smile, and he was surprised but incredibly pleased when she pushed him onto his back and straddled him, taking his morning erection into her with a groan of desire. She rode him slowly at first, leaning over to kiss him as she pressed against him, and he brought his hands first to her breasts and then to her hips as she ground down, seeking her own pleasure. When she came, she breathlessly cried out his name again, and he thought there was no sweeter sound in all the world. He rolled them over so he was on top of her, and took her hard and fast, chasing his own climax now that she’d found hers.

Afterwards, they smiled into each other’s eyes. He leaned down to whisper in her ear, telling her how beautiful she was and how incredible this time had been. He kissed her one more time and got out of bed, sad that it was time to go. 

Brienne watched him as he dressed, and before he could leave, she said, “We have one more night before we leave. Come to me again tonight, if you want?”

Tormund laughed in delight. “There is nothing I want more than one more night in your bed, lovely Brienne – I will see you this evening.” And with that, he was gone.

* * * * *

“Your Grace, do you really think this is a good idea?” Jon questioned his brother, having heard more details of Bran’s plan.

“Stop calling me that, Jon. I’m not your Dragon Queen, insisting that you make a show of bending the knee. And yes, I’m quite certain it will work out, if you just follow my lead.”

Jon was wheeling Bran’s chair toward the common room, where they would take their last evening meal before departing for the Cave of the Three-Eyed Raven. He wasn’t at all sure that Bran’s odd matchmaking plan was the wisest thing his usually intelligent foster brother had come up with.

As they took their seats at the table, they were joined by Tormund and Brienne. It was evident that something had changed between them, although they tried to be subtle it was easy to see that they had come to some sort of understanding the night before. Jon knew Tormund had gone to talk to her after their uncomfortable silences at dinner, and was glad they seemed to have cleared the air. It would have made for an awkward trip to the cave otherwise, especially with such a small party.

Bran greeted them and stated, “It’s going to be a cold trip to the cave, and we should endeavor to travel as light as possible on the journey. Ser Brienne, would your honor be compromised if I asked you to share a tent with Tormund while I share one with my brother?”

No one could miss the blush that crept up Brienne’s neck, or the way Tormund’s eyes gleamed as he considered this prospect. Jon was certain the Lord Commander would decline, insisting on her own tent, but to his surprise she kept her tone emotionless as she said, “If that is what you wish, Your Grace.” Bran nodded, satisfied with her response, and Tormund grinned wolfishly at Jon. 

The conversation was much less awkward than the night before, as they all chatted about the mundanities of the upcoming trip. After the meal, Brienne excused herself, and they agreed to meet at the stable early the next morning to begin their trek. 

Usually Tormund would stay in the common room until late in the night, drinking and laughing with whoever was around, but tonight Jon noticed he slipped away not long after Brienne. He shook his head in wonder. Who knew that ten years apart would be what it took to make Ser Brienne appreciate his red-haired friend? Or maybe the Wildling just wanted a good night’s sleep before their journey. 

Time would tell, Jon supposed.


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey to the cave begins.

Tormund hurried through the halls of Castle Black to Brienne’s room, impatient to pick up where they had left off that morning. He was tempted to simply burst into the room, but knocked instead and waited for her to invite him in. She called for him to enter, and he was pleased to find that she was already naked and waiting for him in the bed. He went to her eagerly, growling in anticipation. 

“I don’t know how I’m going to keep my hands off you during this journey,” he told her as she helped him remove his boots and furs. “It was hard enough walking around the castle today pretending like every glance you gave me didn’t make my cock hard.”

Brienne smiled as she grabbed him through his pants, finding that he was indeed hard and ready for her. “You mean I have this effect on you even when I’m walking around in armor, doing the King’s business?” she teased. “I suppose that’s only fair, since I’m already wet just thinking about all the things we did last night…”

He threw her down on the bed and made short work of his remaining clothes, eager to find out just how wet she was for him. He groaned as he entered her, feeling like he could die a happy man just now with his cock in the hot, sweet grip of her cunt. He wanted to have her in every way imaginable, to make sure she never wanted another man as long as she lived. He wondered how daring she would be on their journey. Would she let him take her up against a tree in the forest while the king and the crow slept? Or would it be enough to tease her slowly and quietly under the furs in their tent?

For now, he kissed her ardently as he fucked her, and she wrapped her long legs around him and tangled her hands in his hair. 

The next morning, they woke early, knowing they had to meet Bran and Jon at the stables just after sunrise. She climbed out of the bed first, intending to get dressed and head out, but Tormund wasn’t ready to let her go. He quickly rose and took her in his arms before she could object, kissing her deeply and pouring all the emotions she wasn’t ready to hear into that kiss. She kissed him back, relishing the feeling of his arms around her, and wondered for a second if this was more than just sex. 

But this was not the time to contemplate such things. They had a journey to begin. She couldn’t resist whispering in his ear that she was glad they would be sharing a tent tonight, and the grin he gave her in response was positively sinful.

* * * * *

Tormund knew where they were going, and he was fairly certain Bran knew the way as well. As they set out on horseback, he idly wondered why the Broken King had asked for a Wildling guide, and thought that he should ask him if the opportunity arose. For now, he rode next to Jon, with Brienne and Bran following. 

Jon noticed his Free Folk companion was a little quieter than usual, and wondered at the silence that Tormund usually would have filled with his tall tales. His friend didn’t seem unhappy – quite the opposite, in fact – but he wasn’t quite as garrulous as usual. “Is something on your mind, Tormund?” he finally asked. “It’s not like you to be so quiet.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Tormund reassured him. “Just thinking about how small your cock is and how sad that must be for you.”

Jon burst into laughter, and Tormund joined in. That was the Tormund Giantsbane he knew and loved, hardly a serious bone in the man’s body. “I’m glad to see you and Ser Brienne are getting along better. I was a bit worried that you would spend the entire trip giving her those looks until she lost her temper and took your cock off with that sword of hers!”

“But if she did that, who would warm her tent?” Tormund laughed. Then, lowering his tone, he said, “I went to her that first night, to make sure this would be alright. I offered to find another Wildling guide if she was uncomfortable, and we… let’s just say we worked out our differences.” He threw a kind smile back in Brienne’s direction, surprising Jon. 

“I’m glad you didn’t try to steal her. I would hate to have her kill you!”

In a serious tone, Tormund replied, “I’d steal her in a heartbeat if I thought I could. But she’s a Southron lady, and a knight, and I know she wouldn’t understand the Wilding ways. But don’t think I’ve given up, Jon Snow! If I have my way, I’ll make her into a spearwife yet.”

“Good luck to you, my friend!” declared Jon, and he meant it with all his heart.

* * * * *

Brienne was always impressed with Bran’s horsemanship, given his handicap. She knew that Tyrion had helped create the apparatus that allowed him to ride, and his horses had to be specially trained to be comfortable with the contraption – but quite honestly, the fact that he could ride at all while paralyzed was extraordinary.

Though she had served him faithfully for ten years, she and the king had never spent much time alone together, and she knew he wasn’t much for small talk – a fact she appreciated, as she didn’t much care for idle gossip herself. But though they rode in companionable silence for the first hour, after that he startled her by striking up a conversation. 

“I know you are concerned about my safety traveling with such a small party, Ser Brienne – but with you and my brother close by, I feel I am more than adequately protected. And that Wildling fellow seems like a capable fighter too, should the need arise.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Brienne replied. “Tormund is an impressive warrior. I recall being impressed by his fighting skills the first time I met him, during the wars. And I’m certain he would let no harm come to you.”

Bran surprised her with a small smile, and said, “I’m glad you remembered him. I was hoping you would get to see some familiar faces on this trip. I know these last several years have been less than exhilarating for you, after the exploits of the wars – and I want you to know that, despite the tradition of Kingsguard being a lifetime post, I would not object if you wanted to do more with your life than spending it standing guard in King’s Landing.”

Brienne was more than a little taken aback, and immediately retorted, “Serving as Lord Commander of your Kingsguard has been the highest honor of my life, Your Grace! I cannot imagine what you think I might otherwise want to do.”

“Just think on it,” Bran replied circumspectly. “You have well and truly done your duty. I am even considering the benefits of having an agent in the North – we have advocates in Winterfell, but it might serve the Six Kingdoms to have an alliance North of the Wall as well.”

He lapsed into silence again, and Brienne was glad. She needed time to consider what the king was saying. Had he just asked her to give up her post and relocate to the land of the Free Folk?


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first night in the tent, and Tormund can't keep his hands off Brienne (as promised)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't give a damn what they said in Season 8, Kristofer Hivju has green eyes. So there.

The first day passed uneventfully, just as they had anticipated. As the sun began to set, they found a clearing that Tormund indicated would be an excellent spot to set up camp for the night. He set about erecting their tents as Brienne went in search of firewood and Jon helped Bran dismount.

After a simple supper, they sat around the fire for an hour laughing at Tormund’s ridiculous stories of his exploits. At last, Bran announced that he was ready to retire, and Jon helped him into their tent, leaving Brienne and Tormund to bank the fire before they settled in for the night. 

Tormund had been on his best behavior all day, and he could barely contain himself once Jon and the king were out of sight. As Brienne focused her attention on the fire, he crept up behind her and grabbed her around her waist, burying his face in her neck with a quiet groan of desire. She smiled as she pulled away, whispering that he should at least wait until they were in the tent, to which he replied, “Then hurry up, woman!” before making his way to their small shelter. 

When Brienne entered, she saw his furs already piled up in one corner of the tent, and the salacious look he gave her left no doubt that he had been anxiously awaiting her arrival. He helped her remove her boots, armor, and clothes, all the while teasing her with caresses and kisses, and by the time she was naked she was every bit as aroused as he had been for nearly the entire day. Clearly she expected him to pounce on her as he had the night before, but Tormund had other plans.

As she bit his lip and tried to mount him, he held her back with a low, seductive laugh. “Not so fast, woman – tonight I’ll have you slowly.” Then he kissed her again as he had that morning, his lips full of passion and longing but also something deeper, and she melted into his embrace. He laid her down on their bedding and pulled the furs up over them both so they wouldn’t be cold, never breaking the kiss. He wanted her fires to burn hotter for him than she imagined possible, and then he wanted to truly make love to her – no hurried fucking tonight, though he had enjoyed plenty of that in their previous nights. 

As they lay wound together under the covers, he brought one hand up to caress her left breast, and was rewarded with a tiny moan as she sought to pull him closer than he already was. Letting go of her mouth, he kissed his way down her neck, nibbling her earlobe and feeling her shudder in response. He continued his journey south, devouring every inch of her skin until he reached the blonde curls between her legs, which were already damp with want.

Brienne was struggling to be quiet, and Tormund didn’t make it easy as he lavished her cunt with kisses, plunging his tongue inside her before focusing his attentions on the pearl that brought her so much pleasure. He was different tonight, she noticed – still wild for her, but somehow holding back the fire inside him, striving instead to focus on her. She was molten with desire, fighting back the moans and cries she wanted so desperately to release, and when she reached her climax he astonished her by thrusting inside her quivering pussy with his tongue while massaging her clit with his thumb to bring her straight into another mind-blowing orgasm. She bit down on the furs to keep from crying out, certain that Jon and Bran would hear her if she did.

Tormund pulled himself up alongside her writing body, never fully releasing her from his embrace, and kissed her soundly before sliding his rock-hard cock into her wetness. He groaned as he felt the echoes of her climax gripping him, but he was determined to make this last. He moved slowly within her, green eyes holding her brilliant blue gaze, prolonging the pleasure for both of them as long as he was able. Shuddering, she burned under the intensity of his scrutiny, breathing hard as she clung to him and succumbed to the sheer hedonism of being with him like this.

At last, they found their release together, and she fell into an exhausted sleep in the tender warmth of his arms. As she drifted off, she heard him whisper something in a language she didn’t understand, and he pressed a kiss to her forehead before following her into slumber.

* * * * *

They awoke the next morning at daybreak, and though she was reluctant to leave his embrace, Brienne did not want to risk Jon finding them like this. She kissed him sweetly and set about getting ready for the day ahead. Tormund was not in a rush to leave the warmth of their shared bedding, so he lay back and watched her with hooded eyes as she dressed and prepared to leave the tent. Pausing on her way out, she smiled at him and asked, “Did you say something last night just as I was falling asleep?” 

Tormund smirked, “Did I wear you out so much you doubt your ears, Brienne?” 

She let out a small laugh and exited the tent. Tormund breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn’t pushed the issue. He wasn’t ready to explain that he hadn’t been able to help himself last night, as she drifted off he’d been unable to resist breathing the words “I love you” to her in the Old Tongue.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is much talking, and no smut.

After they broke camp and mounted their horses, Tormund let Brienne and Jon go on ahead while he rode alongside the Broken King. Something was bothering him, and he needed to find out exactly what was going on here.

He knew Bran, unlike most Southroners, was not much for small talk, so they rode in silence until Tormund could not contain himself any longer. “You’ve been to this cave before, I know. Why did you need a Wildling guide?”

Bran turned to him with that maddening half-smile. “Didn’t Jon tell you? I didn’t ask for just any Wildling guide, Tormund Giantsbane. I asked for you specifically.”

Shocked, Tormund nearly stopped his horse. “What? Why would you do that?”

“There has been peace in King’s Landing, and throughout the Six Kingdoms, for many years now,” Bran replied. “And while peace is good for the realm, it can be difficult for individuals who found their purpose more defined in times of chaos and struggle.”

Tormund knew he was talking about Brienne, but he still didn’t understand the king’s intentions. 

“Ser Brienne has served me well and faithfully for a decade, but even I can see that a life of peaceful service does not suit her. I would not discharge her from my service, but if she wanted a different life for herself, I would not object.”

“But why me?” Tormund wondered aloud. “Why do you think I could have any influence on her? You don’t know me, and I doubt she even thought of me much during the past ten years, much less spoke my name to her king!”

“No, she did not. She is very private, and would not speak to me of such things even if they occurred to her.” Bran leveled his gaze at the red-haired man. “But I have other ways of seeing, you know.”

This time, Tormund did stop his horse. He could not believe his ears. “Are you an oracle as well as the Three-Eyed Raven?” he inquired in disbelief. “Are you telling me you brought us together because of something you have foreseen?”

Bran kept riding, so the Wildling had to hurry his horse to catch up. “I do not see the future so clearly as that, Tormund. But I had thought perhaps an alliance between my kingdom and the lands north of the wall might be worthwhile, and if in so doing I could foster some happiness for a warrior that has served me so loyally and well, then why not?”

Tormund shook his head. He didn’t know the Big Woman half as well as he wanted to, despite their nights in each other’s arms, but he was certain she would not take kindly to being used as a pawn – even if King Bran’s motivations were benevolent.

* * * * *

That afternoon found Tormund and Brienne riding together, with the King and Jon following a bit behind them. She could tell something was bothering him, but didn’t want to push him in case it was something she wasn’t ready to hear.

Instead, she queried him about life north of the wall. She had never really given much thought to what became of the Wildlings once the dead were defeated, and she was genuinely curious what their life was like now. 

Tormund loved to talk, and telling her about the ways of the Free Folk and how things had changed in the past ten years took his mind off his troubling conversation with Bran. Brienne reveled in his enthusiasm as he regaled her with tales of his fierce tribe and the ways they dealt with life in a north that was still cold and harsh, if more than a little less dangerous than it had been in his early years. He noticed her fascination, and it warmed his heart to think there was a chance, however small, that she might decide to stay here in the north.

“You would be prized among my people, woman,” he remarked to her. “Your size and strength, not to mention your fighting skills! Men would come from all over to try to steal you, I have no doubt.”

“Steal me?” Brienne was visibly startled. “I thought that was just a myth, that Wildlings steal women for their wives!”

Tormund gave a hearty laugh. “It’s not always the way it’s done, but it does still happen. When a woman is highly desirable, and shows no preference for choosing a man from her own tribe, she can attract admirers from all around. But we do have honor, and no woman is forced to live a life she doesn’t want, even if she is stolen.”

Brienne contemplated this for a moment, then gave him a sly look. “So if I chose my own mate, that decision would be respected?” 

Tormund’s heart was in his throat. He wanted desperately to believe she was sincere, but he was afraid she was just playing with him. “Of course! We’re not all savages, you know.”

Brienne smiled at him, and his heart leapt. But then her face turned serious, and she looked to the road ahead. “I am a sworn member of the Kingsguard. I serve at the King’s pleasure, and have promised to keep his secrets and defend his life with my own. These vows also mean I can never marry.”

Tormund surprised her with another laugh. “The Free Folk don’t believe in marriage, Brienne. That’s just a formality you Southroners use to bind people together and form alliances between houses. Things are simpler among my people – if you care for someone, then you stay with them, and whatever vows you make are between the two of you.”

He paused, then added, “That’s not to say that some don’t mate for life. It does happen, and it’s respected all the more for its rarity.” He tried not to stare at her too hard, wishing he was free to declare himself but not wanting to frighten her with the intensity of his emotions.

“Interesting,” she replied. They rode on in silence for a few minutes, and then she began asking him more questions about his life and the life of his people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I saw a note on Reddit about Brienne swearing never to father children as part of her Kingsguard vows, which I think is a delightful loophole. She can't marry, but nothing says she can't be a mother if she's so inclined!


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tormund is not good at keeping secrets.

That night after dinner, Bran told them he intended to sit by the fire for a while. He wanted to warg into some of the local wildlife to see what lay between them and the cave, and make sure there were no unexpected obstacles. He would call for Jon when he was done, and he encouraged Brienne and Tormund to retire early as he hoped to complete their journey the following day.

Tormund had set up their tent on the opposite side of the fire from Jon and Bran’s, but Brienne was still concerned about drawing attention to their nighttime activities. She entered the tent first, with Tormund on her heels, but when she turned to teasingly ask him what their plans for the evening would be, she was surprised to find a serious look on his face.

“We need to talk.” He began to help her remove her armor, knowing that it was uncomfortable and impractical to wear inside the tent, but all the while he spoke in a low tone, telling her what he’d learned from Bran earlier in the day. He waited for her anger, for her to lash out or pull away from him, but instead she merely sighed and leaned into him. Her back was to him, so he couldn’t see her face, and he was still worried.

“Brienne, I had no idea until today that this was the King’s plan. I don’t want you to think I seduced you as part of some grand scheme!” He was beginning to panic, and her continued silence wasn’t helping.

To his surprise, she laughed a little. “Of course not, Tormund. I’ve seen enough liars and frauds in my life to know that kind of deceit isn’t in your nature.” She sighed again, and slumped a little. “I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“What do you want? Given the choice, where do you want to go when this journey is over?”

“I don’t know. So much has changed so quickly. When I took my vows as Kingsguard, I assumed I’d spend the rest of my days in King’s Landing. I did not take those vows lightly, and even if the king is willing to permit it, I don’t know that I am comfortable just walking away.”

“What if he orders you to stay in the north?” Tormund replied. 

“Then I will have no choice but to go where my king commands.” She was silent for a moment, then continued in a small voice, “What would it mean to you if I remained? I don’t want to be an obligation, or for you to think you have to be with me just because of these past few days…”

Tormund’s heart ached for this amazing woman who had known so much rejection in her life. He tightened his hold on her and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. He didn’t want to frighten her, but clearly the time had come to put all his cards on the table.

“Brienne, you would never be an obligation to me. I thought I had been clear with you from the first night – you are incredible, woman, and I want you as I’ve never wanted another. I would do anything to keep you here with me, but I know it isn’t my choice to make. If you decide to go back to King’s Landing, my heart will go with you, because I love you and I want no one else for the rest of my days.”

She turned to him then, tears in her eyes, and kissed him sweetly. His heart stammered, afraid for a moment that she was going to turn away or make this the beginning of goodbye, but instead she tangled her hands in his hair again and kissed him again, this time with the fire he had come to know and love these past few nights. He groaned hungrily into her mouth, and she pushed him down and began to take off his furs. 

He wouldn’t push her further. She had to make her own decision. Tonight it was enough to kiss her, touch her, taste her, and whisper words of love in her ear without restraint.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they arrive at the cave.

The third day of their journey dawned clear and cold, and Bran and Tormund both felt sure they would reach the Cave of the Three-Eyed Raven shortly after midday. As they rode out, Brienne found herself next to King Bran as Jon and Tormund followed behind them. Curious, Brienne found herself asking the king what he hoped to find at the cave, and he told her about his history there – meeting his predecessor, the Three-Eyed Raven who never left the cave, and how the Night King had touched him and thus invalidated the protections the Children of the Forest had put in place so long before. He described the fight in which Hodor and all of the remaining Children of the Forest lost their lives, and though his tone never changed Brienne suspected he was not entirely unaffected by the violence he’d experienced. Then again, it was hardly the first violence he’d seen, having been pushed out a window by her very own Kingslayer as a child. She winced a bit at the thought of Jaime Lannister; she hadn’t thought of him much recently at all. A wry smile crossed her face when she realized she’d already spent more time in Tormund’s bed than she ever had in Jaime’s, and she shook her head slightly and focused on Bran as he talked about wanting to see the cave again, and the weirwood tree above it. If the king had noticed her distractedness, he made no mention of it.

Tormund was a bit reserved again today, which took Jon by surprise. The Wildling seemed to be watching King Bran and Ser Brienne’s conversation with extreme interest, as if hoping he could somehow ascertain what they were talking about from a distance. Jon called his friend’s name, and it seemed Tormund had nearly forgotten Jon was there as he started slightly and then gruffly replied, “What is it, crow?”

“Is something bothering you?” Jon inquired. “You aren’t quite yourself these days, and I’m not used to you being so quiet.”

Tormund contemplated this for a moment before deciding to confide in his friend. Without going into detail, he told Jon that things had been going well with his plan to woo Brienne, but he was not at all certain where they would be when the trip came to an end. 

“It’s not like you to worry so much about the future,” Jon teased, and immediately regretted it as his friend’s face turned sorrowful. 

“She’s not just any woman, Jon. I want her to stay with me. It will break my heart if she doesn’t.” Tormund looked down for a moment, and Jon almost didn’t hear him say, “I love her, crow, and I told her so.”

“Well, she didn’t kick you out of the tent after that confession, so she must return your affections at least a little!” Jon tried cajole his friend out of his somber mood. 

“Yes, but is it enough to keep her here in the north?” Tormund still looked melancholy. 

Jon thought about the two women he’d loved, Ygritte and Daenerys – both of whom had died in his arms. “Nothing is ever promised to us, my friend. If you want my advice, just love her the best you can today, and try to let that be enough.” 

* * * * *

They arrived at the cave just after midday, as Bran and Tormund had predicted. The cave itself was larger than Brienne had anticipated – truly it was more like a network of caves beneath a vast weirwood tree. Bran had told her he expected to spend at least two days here, so she and Tormund went to work setting up their tents in a clearing nearby while Jon and his brother ventured up to the majestic tree.

As soon as Jon and Bran were out of earshot, Tormund turned to Brienne with a wicked grin. “How strong do you think the king’s connection to that tree is?”

Puzzled, she replied, “What do you mean?”

“Do you think he’d know about it if I took you up against it during the night while he and Jon are sleeping?” 

Brienne was taken aback, and Tormund had to laugh at the look on her face. “Woman, you look as shocked as if I’d proposed fucking you in this clearing in the middle of the day!” He would have kissed her then and there, but he was fairly certain she’d object to such a display of affection when Jon and Bran might turn and see them. Instead, he touched her face, and gave her a smile so full of love and mischief that she couldn’t help but smile in return.

“But think about it,” he said. “We’ve had a lot of fun in that tent, but there’s so much we could do outside of it too!”

“In the freezing cold?” she asked, aghast.

“There’s not much better for keeping warm than fucking, woman!” Tormund laughed again. 

For the rest of the afternoon, she was tormented by the image of Tormund taking her up against that tree. She was amazed at how much the very thought turned her on.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the Cave of the Three-Eyed Raven.

Brienne ventured into the Cave of the Three-Eyed Raven but once, and that was more than enough for her. The first afternoon, after she and Tormund finished setting up camp and Bran and Jon returned from their visit to the weirwood tree, the king asked his Lord Commander to accompany him on his first visit to the cave’s interior. She wheeled him carefully through the network of caverns into the depths, finding the roots of the weirwood tree where the former Three-Eyed Raven had lived his entire tenure, and was disturbed at the dark ambiance of the place itself. Bran, on the other hand, seemed to relish the atmosphere, and wasn’t troubled by it at all. 

When they emerged, Jon and Tormund had prepared dinner, and she was relieved to be able to revel in the levity of her Wildling lover and the king’s foster brother. She was further relieved when Bran told her he would have Jon take him into the cave the next day, and that he intended to spend most of the day in there. He merely asked that she and Tormund be on guard, lest anything unusual attempt to approach and impede his time in this space he clearly regarded as sacred. 

All four of them made their way to their tents not long after dark. Whilst Jon and Bran went to sleep, knowing they had a long day ahead of them, Tormund had no intention of letting Brienne find sleep easily – rather, he tormented her with touches and kisses, and whispers of what he was going to do to her the next day while the king and the crow were inside the cave and the two of them were left to their own devices.

* * * * *

When Brienne awoke the next day, the sun was already high in the sky and she was alarmed to find herself alone in the tent. She quickly dressed, forgoing her armor in her hurry, and emerged to find Tormund tending the fire. He greeted her with a impish smirk, and asked if she’d slept well, clearly pleased that he had worn her out enough that she hadn’t even heard Bran and Jon get up and take their leave more than an hour earlier. 

While she broke her fast, he regaled her with tales of what he’d planned for their day. She smiled and rolled her eyes as he listed several clearly outlandish options, and finally suggested they spar for the fun of it – with the winner having the opportunity to decide what they actually did first. She liked the sound of that, and nodded her assent.

“Where shall we fight, Wildling?” she asked him as soon as she was ready, pausing to add, “Let me get my sword.” 

Tormund was having none of that. “No weapons, woman – let’s just see who is the stronger fighter,” he declared, narrowing his eyes before launching himself at her.

Brienne had half expected such an assault, and nimbly dodged out of the way. Before Tormund could recover, she was on top of him, struggling to hold his arms down by his sides. He leered up at her, more than ready to take her on this way, and the fight was on.

They wrestled together in the clearing for nearly an hour, neither wanting to truly hurt the other but both equally determined to prove their strength. He pulled her hair, and she yanked his beard; he grappled her, attempting to immobilize her arms, and she bit him on the neck, bringing her knee up between his legs but stopping short of really injuring his sensitive parts. At last she was on top of him, panting as they stared into each other eyes, and he yielded with a hearty laugh. Pleased with her victory, she kissed him soundly before standing up and offering him a hand to help him up as well.

“You win, love – what shall we do first?” Tormund inquired as he brushed the grass and snow off his furs. 

“Let’s go for a walk,” Brienne replied coyly, and took his hand as they strode up the hill toward the towering weirwood tree.

At the top of the hill, she surprised him by kissing him again, pushing him forcefully against the trunk of the imposing tree. “Do you still want to find out how strong King Bran’s connection to this tree is?” she growled, and didn’t wait for him to reply. He was startled when she knelt in front of him, shoved his pants down and took his already hard cock in her mouth. 

Tormund leaned his head back against the weirwood, groaning as she kissed and sucked the length of him. He had thought nothing in the world could feel better than having his cock buried in Brienne’s cunt, but this was definitely a close second. She was relentless, stroking him with her hand as well, obviously intent on bringing him to climax this way; he looked down at her, and saw she was gazing up at him with those beautiful blue eyes, and he was completely undone. He came into her mouth with a shout and shudder, and she swallowed around him, not releasing him until he softened completely. Then she stood up and smiled at him, and he pulled her close and kissed her deeply, relishing the taste of his seed in her mouth. 

Wanting her to have her pleasure too, he reached inside her pants and shoved two fingers inside her dripping pussy. He held her close with his other hand, and kept kissing her as he brought her to a quick climax. Taking his hand out her throbbing cunt, he looked in her eyes as he sucked her juices off his fingers. Her eyes were wide with want, and he told her, “You taste so incredible, woman – I want to taste more of you.”

With that, he threw her over his shoulder and carried her back to their tent. They didn’t emerge for several more hours, though they did manage to pull themselves together enough to cook dinner by the time Bran and Jon emerged from the cave.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne's decision is made.

That night after dinner, King Bran informed his companions that he had seen enough of the cave and was ready to return to Castle Black. He wanted to visit the weirwood tree one more time in the morning, and then they could begin their journey.

Brienne was quiet that evening, and Tormund could see that she was lost in thought. He was on tenterhooks, dying to know what was going on in her mind – but he had resolved not to pressure her in any way, and he stuck to that. Instead, he made love to her tenderly one more time before they drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms.

The next morning, Brienne was up early, and offered to take the king up to the weirwood tree for his final visit. He accepted her offer, and they set off, leaving Tormund and Jon to break down the camp. 

As they approached the top of the hill where the tree sat, Bran broke the companionable silence and asked, “Ser Brienne, have you given any more thought to the idea of being my agent north of the Wall? After my time spent in the cave yesterday, I am even more confident that this is something that will benefit the Six Kingdoms.” He turned slightly to fix her with his piercing gaze. “But if it is not something you want, I can send another. Perhaps Lord Davos would like to spend his waning years in the North among the Free Folk.”

Brienne was taken aback. Clearly she had not anticipated that he might send someone else, should she not take him up on this offer. She pondered her next words carefully, not wanting to seem too eager, but knowing in her heart that she had made her choice.

“Your Grace, serving as Lord Commander of your Kingsguard has truly been the highest honor of my life. But if you believe it will benefit yourself and the Six Kingdoms, I would be happy to stay among the Wildlings and be your agent here.” She looked at him directly as she continued, “I will remain your sworn sword, and a faithful Kingsguard. If ever I am needed in King’s Landing, you have but to send for me and I will return.”

Bran nodded, satisfied. “Do you think Ser Podrick is ready to take your place as Lord Commander?” he asked her. 

“I do, Your Grace. He will no doubt serve you faithfully for the rest of his life, or as long as you desire.” Bran gave Brienne a half-smile, realizing that she was teasing him a little. 

“Might I make one request, Your Grace?” she queried. “Say nothing to your brother or Tormund just yet. I would like to tell them in my own time.” 

“Of course, Ser Brienne,” Bran replied. The matter closed, he turned his attention to the grandiose weirwood tree one more time.

* * * * *

They rode out from the clearing at midmorning, Jon and Brienne in the lead with Tormund and the Broken King following. Brienne peppered Jon with questions about life beyond the Wall, suddenly eager to know more about the activities of the Night’s Watch in the years since the dead had been defeated. Jon was happy enough to discuss these matters with her, and answered her questions with honesty and good humor, throwing in details about life among the Free Folk as well.

Tormund eyed Bran suspiciously, wondering what if anything he had seen in the cave, and what he had discussed with Brienne that morning; but the Broken King was clearly not going to give anything away, and though he leveled his shrewd gaze at Tormund when he felt him staring, he said nothing.

They stopped for the night shortly before dark, setting up camp and eating their evening meal in relative silence. Bran was clearly exhausted, and asked Jon to help him to bed as soon as they finished eating. 

Tormund and Brienne sat by the fire after the king and his brother had retired. To his surprise, she laid her head on his shoulder and didn’t object when he put an arm around her. She had thus far resisted any displays of affection this close to their companions, and he felt hopeful that this was a good sign – but he still feared it was the beginning of the end, and that she would part ways with him at Castle Black in two days’ time and be lost to him forever.

As she stared into the fire, Brienne broke her silence. “Tormund, I need to tell you something,” she began, and immediately felt his tension increase. “King Bran and I spoke this morning, about his proposal that I become the Six Kingdom’s agent north of the Wall.” 

Tormund said nothing; he doubted if he could have spoken at all, as his mouth was suddenly dry.

“The tradition of Kingsguard in Westeros goes back hundreds of years. As far as I know, no one has ever left the position voluntarily, except to commit some heinous act of treason – and that is something I would never do.”

Brienne turned her direct gaze on Tormund. She had to move out of his embrace to face him, but she took both his hands in her own as she spoke. “I’ve never dreamed of being more than a knight, and being Lord Commander of the Kingsguard is a higher honor than any I could have imagined for myself. But Bran is right – I am not happy in King’s Landing. The Kingsguard is well established, but there simply isn’t much to do other than maintain daily operations. While I don’t wish for another war – far from it! – I do find myself longing for something more, something that could give meaning to my life.”

Tormund held her gaze, entirely uncertain where this conversation was taking them. 

“I have enjoyed being in the north again far more than I thought I might. Traveling, seeing Sansa in Winterfell, and then finding you in Castle Black – these are things I didn’t know I wanted, not that I have ever let myself want much at all. 

“Listening to your stories about the way the Wildlings live, hearing King Bran say he was considering building an alliance between the Six Kingdoms and the Free Folk – these things have made me hope for more than the life of a Kingsguard.

“Do you remember what you said to me before The Long Night, when I told you that women couldn’t be knights?”

Tormund grinned. He did indeed remember. Hope was swelling in his heart.

Brienne smiled back at him. “I believe the charming phrase you used was, ‘Fuck tradition!’”

He pulled her closer to him. “Does this mean you’ll stay with me, Brienne? Be my woman?”

“For as long as you want,” she replied. She might have said more, but he kissed her until they were both breathless, and there was no more talking that night.


	12. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten years later.

Bran the Broken’s rule continued in the Six Kingdoms, a time of unabated peace and prosperity. Ten more years passed, a total of twenty since the Dragon Queen had destroyed King’s Landing and the dead had been defeated at Winterfell, before he thought to go north once again to visit his siblings and see his childhood home. Ravens were sent, inviting all his agents and allies in the North to meet him at Winterfell in a month’s time.

Ser Podrick was pleased to accompany his king, and hopeful that he might get to see his mentor again after so many years. It had startled him when she returned to Castle Black and informed him that she would be staying in the North, but he had been honored to accept the position as Lord Commander and hoped he had done her proud.

Their journey to Winterfell was straightforward, and their party arrived to much fanfare. Queen Sansa had taken a consort from among the lords of the north, and her two small sons were there in the courtyard with her to greet King Bran. Jon Snow was also there, still wearing the black although the position of Night’s Watch was really just a formality; twenty years on from the war, there wasn’t much need to defend anything, though they did keep the peace with the Free Folk as necessary.

Speaking of the Wildlings, Podrick saw a small group of them standing off to one side of the courtyard, and easily recognized Tormund’s red hair and beard – though both were beginning to show some grey these days. Next to him was Brienne, clad in Wildling furs rather than the armor he’d expected, and between them was a girl, no more than seven years of age, with red-blonde hair and blue eyes that Pod would have known anywhere. Brienne caught his eye and smiled, waving in greeting. He dismounted and smiled back at her, glad to see that life in the north suited her. 

Bran the Broken noticed this as well, and gave a nod to his brother and sister as he noted with a half-smile, “I told you to trust me.” Sansa and Jon had to laugh at his smug tone, and admit that the Three-Eyed Raven had been right. Brienne belonged in the North, and all was as it should be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos and notes of encouragement! I hope you all enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. 
> 
> This was my first time writing smut, I hope it wasn't too awful and awkward to read :) 
> 
> The series finale left everything feeling so unfinished, I just needed to wrap up a few things in my own head, and this story basically wrote itself.


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